Carefree Cowboy
by Whackadoo
Summary: Y'all remember the photo Crowley had on his phone of him and Demon Dean in cowboy hats...? What's the story behind that, anyway? This is my take on it...


"Hey, ah, beer please? Whatever you have on tap is fine."

I looked at the new comer. He offered a friendly smile that didn't quite make it to his eyes. His eyes looked haunted but at the same time very alert. I grabbed a glass and filled it with the requested beer and set it down in front of him.

"My lord, Slim. Would it kill you to smile once in a while?" Joleen came over, setting her tray on the bar. "Name's Joleen, sugar, and don't let Slim here scare you. He's all sandpaper on the outside but he won't bite unless you give him a reason." She winked at the man who offered a smile in return. I just grunted at her. "Gimme two more beers, a vodka and cranberry, and another whiskey for our friends in the corner."

I went about getting the requested drinks. I'm not the type of bartender that people bared their souls to. I have enough problems in my life. I don't encourage people to tell me theirs as well. One of the easiest ways to do that was by not smiling at every Tom, Dick and, Harry that came in the joint. I set Joleen's drinks on her tray as requested.

Joleen patted the man's arm. "You need a bite to eat, sugar, you just grab my attention, you hear?"

"Not right now, but thank you." He bobbed his head in thanks and hugged his beer. His voice was warm and tired. His eyes flashed around the place, taking everything in. We had a mechanical bull that was up and running three nights a week. Tonight was one of those and the bar area was pretty quiet. The bull drew a lot of attention and it made for a busier night for Joleen than myself. It was rare to get more than one or two customers at the bar on bull nights.

My eyes wandered off the stranger and back to Joleen. She collected some empty glasses and a couple pitchers. She glanced my way and winked with her tongue sticking out at me. God I loved that woman. She came into this bar fifteen years ago, won over the staff, won over the patrons, and won over my heart. I made her mine three years later and we have been a team ever since. We don't wear wedding bands and aside from the staff and the regulars, no one would know we were married, but we love what we do and the people we get to meet. She brings me out of my sandpaper shell, as she calls it. She's my social half.

Seeing the wink with the tongue out, I went about filling three pitchers for her. We had built a system for these busy nights that made everything run smoother. On simple items like beers and pitchers, all she had to do was give me the right signal and I could have her stuff ready and waiting when she got to the bar.

She came over to grab the pitchers and leaned in. "Slim, keep your eyes on the one in the black Stetson. He reminds me of the one we had in here a few weeks ago." I noticed the stranger perked up a bit at the comment.

"Already am." I nodded, she smiled, and she returned with full pitchers for the rowdy bull riders.

"Had some trouble in here a few weeks ago?" The stranger asked.

"None of it yours." I replied and pulled some clean pitchers out from under the bar, prepping for the next round.

"Sorry to say, but it might be." I eyed him warily. We don't get people in here asking questions a lot. The movies and tv would have you believe that every bar owner in the world has cops and what not coming in and asking questions all the time, but that's just not the case. We don't get bribed with fifties every other weekend to give out the last knowns on various customers. Hell, in my thirty years as owner of this place it has happened only once before and that was due to that double murder up on the highway. Every business owner in a twenty mile radius was grilled on that one.

When I didn't answer him, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture and set it on the bar. "Have you seen this man in here?"

"Nope." I really didn't want to get involved in whatever this was. He clearly wasn't a cop or he would have shown his badge already and, not for nothin, but I think a cop would be a little bit more put together. This guy was disheveled to say the least. He looked like he may have been chasing whomever was in the photo for years.

"Come on, man. You didn't even look at the picture. At least do that much for me."

I sighed. Something about his manner made me want to help him out. He just seemed so tired. "Fine. Give it here." He handed the photo over and I turned and held it under one of the track lights at the back of the bar. I easily recognized the man. The photo was of two young guys laughing with each other. The one on the left was clearly a younger version of the man at the bar. The other was a younger version of the carefree cowboy we had in here a few weeks ago. He was a good customer. He tipped very well and liked to have a good time. He also didn't take shit from anyone and was likely to start a brawl at the drop of a hat. He only got into a fight once and was nice enough, after breaking one of my tables, to take it outside.

"You recognize him, don't you?"

I turned and gave him the photo back. "He seems different in the photo."

He looked down at the photo, himself, looking at it again like it was the first time he had seen it. He chuckled under his breath. "Yeah. I suppose you could say that." Silence dragged out while he lost himself in whatever memories were rolling through his head.

I cleared my throat. "Yeah. He was in here a few weeks ago. He and his buddy were regulars for about a week, maybe a little less than that."

"Can you please tell me everything you remember? What they did, what they ordered. Did you hear them talking about anything?"

This guy was desperate. It was written all over his face. I raised my eyebrows at him. "Everything?"

"Yes. Please."

The please came out as a plea. "Who is this guy to you? Why are you looking for him, anyway?" I wanted to know I wasn't helping a deranged lunatic find some poor guy so he could bring down who knows what on his head.

The stranger sighed and ran a hand down his tired face. "He's my brother."

There wasn't a doubt in my mind that he wasn't telling the truth. "Alright. There's really not much to tell. He and his buddy came in here on, oh, I think it was a Monday night. They sat in the corner with their backs to the wall and ordered some drinks."

"The buddy. Can you describe him?

"Well, he was shorter. Black hair and a bit of a beard coming in. Had an accent of some kind. I ain't never heard one like it in here before or since."

"Scottish."

"Sure I suppose. He was always dressed in a full suit, which made Joleen take a shine to him. She said he was a smooth talker and liked to listen to him talk."

"Crowley." The stranger said with obvious disgust.

"Well, he never did give his name. Neither did, come to think on it."

"Dean. My brother's name was Dean."

I frowned at him. "Was?"

After a weighty pause he answered. "Like you said. He was different in the photo."

"Slim, honey, you're distracted tonight. I need three beers and Saul needs a round of shots. He's found himself a taker." Joleen looked between myself and the stranger and immediately picked up on the fact that something was going on. I turned to get her beers and start work on the shots.

"Everything okay here, boys?" She eyed the stranger herself.

"Of course. He was just telling me about a customer you had in here a few weeks ago."

"Oh really? Who?"

"Crowley." She looked at him confused and he gave her more. "Scottish accent, fine dresser?"

"Oh! Mmmhmm. I remember him." I turned with her beers and gave her a grunt. "Don't you roll your eyes at me, Slim. You dress like that more often and maybe.." She flushed a little and grabbed the beers. "I'll be right back for Saul's shots."

The stranger watched her walk away and then looked pointedly at me. "You two...?"

"Married twelve years."

He smiled warmly. "Bet she's a handful."

"Don't you know it." I actually smiled at him. Write it down on the calendar. Slim McGovern smiled at a customer.

"So...about Dean?"

"Oh yeah. Well,... they came in here and Dean, as you say his name was, was all gung ho. His friend, though, seemed to wish he was anywhere but here. Dean coaxed him along and by the end of the week, you'd think that Crowley feller was a regular. He never could lose the suits, but, hell he even broke the record on ol' Steel Shanks over there."

"Steel Shanks?" The stranger looked over in the general direction that I had motioned.

"Our mechanical bull. They both gave him a shot." I laughed. "Dean was itching to get on the thing as soon as he spotted it. He was disappointed to learn it wouldn't be up and running til Wednesday. Hell, that may be half the reason they stuck around."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, you know. We're out in the middle of nowhere. We get a stranger in here, they either just moved to the area or they are passing through. These guys were obviously just passing through. But, Dean took a shine to the place and they stuck around."

"Joleen mentioned some trouble... was he it?"

"Yes and no. The trouble was the fight, but she was probably thinking of him slapping her rear." I chuckled and grinned at the memory of Joleen's face.

"Oh man. Look, I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be. Comes with the territory. Guy gets a few beers under his belt and thinks the world is his for the taking. We don't wear wedding bands. He didn't know she was spoken for." I chuckled again. "She set him straight right quick and there was no more problems after that. Although Shelly... I do hear she gave your brother a test drive." I smiled for the second time that night at the look on the poor guy's face. His brother was obviously a player and this man knew it.

"I hope he didn't..."

"You kidding me? We can't get her to shut up about it. Says he was a demon in the sack and she pines for him to come back every damn day." The stranger's eyes flashed oddly at the mention of demon, but he quickly recovered. "Anyway, on Wednesday, Dean gave old Steel Shanks a run for his money but got bucked off a mere three seconds short of the record. Boy howdy, he was pissed. He tried four more times that night but never got that close again."

Joleen came back over and I slid a tray across the bar to her with a load of shots for Saul. "Tell him to spill it in the head this time or he's cleaning it up himself." Joleen chuckled, grabbed the tray, and headed out again.

"So that's all they did? Came in here, drank beer, hit on the waitresses and rode the bull?"

He sounded shocked and surprised. "Well, yeah. What else you gonna come in here for? The art?"

The stranger looked around at the walls. "Huh. I guess I'm just having trouble figuring out where my brother's head is at."

I looked at him with a bit of pity. "Look man, I'm not sure where his head was at, but I know me and half the guys in here wished we could have had it."

He looked at me, shocked. "What?"

"I called him the Carefree Cowboy while he was here. The guy didn't care about anything. Seemed like he didn't have a mortgage, a crummy job, or a bitch at home wondering where the hell he was. And if he did, you'd never know it. He laughed and drank and had a good time like he didn't have a care in the world. He didn't care what other people thought of him either. He just did his thing and to hell with everything and everyone else. To be able to just forget about all your worries like that? For even one night? Hell, isn't that why half of these people are in here every night? Trying to get drunk enough that those worries begin to fade a little into the background?" I shook my head in awe of the attitude Dean had had.

Joleen popped back over. "Shelly is on. I'm done for the night. How you boys doin'?"

"Guy, here, is looking for his brother."

"The scottish man is your brother?" she asked surprised.

"No no. The one he was with is my brother."

"Oh good lord. You think you could talk to Shelly? Tell her he ain't coming back or something?"

The stranger chuckled. "Trust me. He won't be coming back." He looked at me expectantly.

"So.." I continued, "They hung around til the weekend. On Saturday they showed up in cowboy hats." I chuckled at the thought. "Dean seemed to go with it, like he was born to wear one. His friend, though, looked put out, but wore it anyway. Dean eventually talked his buddy into getting on the bull. He removed his jacket and tie, rolled up his sleeves... It's amazing how much confidence a few drinks will give a man."

"He was amazing." Joleen said.

"Shut up you." I snapped my bar towel at her and she squealed. "He was amazing, though. Beat the record for Steel Shanks by a full twelve seconds. I ain't never seen anything like it."

"They were celebrating, too. Bought the whole place a round of drinks. He even had me snap a photo of them on his phone." Joleen smiled. "He was very polite. Quite a charmer. I bet he can get anything he wants with just the right amount of schmooze." She had a far away look in her eyes.

The stranger seemed to get agitated at that. "You didn't see Crowley talking to anyone alone, did you? Was he always with Dean?"

Joleen and I frowned at each other. "I only ever saw him with Dean." I thought his reaction was a little odd.

"I saw him talking to Stu at one point. Otherwise..." She put her finger to her chin in thought. "...nope. Otherwise I only ever saw him with Dean, too."

"Stu?" the stranger looked around the bar.

"Hey yeah, Jo, how is Stu doing? I heard tell his ranch was having problems. Some sort of virus in the cattle or something?"

"He was in here just yesterday. The virus seems to have cleared up and he said his heifers are all carrying."

"All of them? Well that's some luck, huh? He'll be able to restock his herd in no time at that rate."

"He said it's a miracle, but he ain't gonna question it."

The stranger shook his head. He seemed upset. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Anything else you can tell me?"

"Well, Frank didn't take too kindly to having his record broke on the bull. He had already had too much to drink and he approached Dean and had some words with him."

"Poor Frank." Joleen looked down at the bar.

"Poor Frank?" The stranger prodded.

"He's the one who got into the fight with Dean. Happened so quick, too. One second he's over there yelling at Dean and then next, Frank is in a heap on the floor, my table busted. He pulled himself up and went at Dean with a rage. I yelled at them to take it outside. Dean grabbed Frank by the shirt collar and literally dragged him out the front. A whole crowd of people followed them out there."

"Next thing we know, there are sirens and an ambulance out front." Joleen said.

"He's okay, right?" The stranger seemed like everything his brother did was his fault. No wonder he looked so tired if he'd been following his brother from town to town, cleaning up his messes.

"He will be. He got busted up pretty bad. Heard tell it took four guys to pull your brother off him."

Shelly came over to the bar then, gladly interrupting. "Hey Slim! Busy night, huh?" She looked over at the stranger and winked at him. "Two beers and a basket of pretzels, please?"

I got her what she needed and handed them over. "You go winking at every stranger that comes in here and you'll find yourself with someone who's more demon than man, young lady. Watch yourself."

"Oh you!" She smiled, rolled her eyes, and took her order out into the crowd. I shook my head. One of these days she was going to wink at the wrong person.

I turned back and the stranger was white as a sheet. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

He shook his head and cleared his thoughts. "I'm fine. Where were we?"

"The fight. Pretty much ruined business for the rest of that night. Cops came in, asked a bunch of questions. No charges were filed as everyone said Frank pretty much brought it on himself and had been drinking too much. We closed up early after that.

"When Dean came in the next night, I wasn't too pleased to see him, big tips or not. He came right over to me at the bar and slapped down a thousand dollars."

The stranger's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"No kidding. He apologized for the broken table and thanked me for a hell of a week and left. I never saw him again."

He was quiet for a moment. "Thanks. Really. You've been very helpful."

"Look, I hope you find your brother, but, to be honest... I don't think he thinks he's lost."

"Oh, he's lost. So lost. In fact.." He sighed the heaviest sigh I think I've ever heard come from a man. "... I think he may have lost more than I realized." He stood up and placed a twenty on the bar. "Thanks again."

He walked out with what looked like the weight of the world on his shoulders. I shook my head. "This is why I don't smile at people."


End file.
